


please

by MagnetMaeg



Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: Bondage and Discipline, Branding, Dominance and Submission, F/M, Flogging, Heavy BDSM, Heavy Masochism, Heavy Sadism, Henry belongs to a friend on one of my rp servers, I don't allow M/E matterial on my rp server, Implied Oral Sex, Implied/Referenced Sex, Oral Sex, Sexual Punishment, So I put it here, This is all literally what I would want to happen to myself. woops., Torture, implied age pay, large age difference, rope play, sadism and masochism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-23
Updated: 2019-04-23
Packaged: 2020-01-25 15:55:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,384
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18577714
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MagnetMaeg/pseuds/MagnetMaeg
Summary: When a polite woman who was known around town for being helpful and friendly finally has an opportunity to show her true desires.





	please

Was this bad? Ida wondered to herself idly, her arms were tied above her. The ropes digging into her biceps, these ropes connected to a beam above her head. She was just able to stand. The arches of her feet burning from trying to support her weight on her toes.

But she wouldn't have it any other way, as tears streamed down her face, a smile planted in her lips as she arches towards the leather of a worn belt striking her from behind.

She'd come her of her own free will: After encountering a man who resembled a wanted member of the Moore gang, she'd walked around town asking questions indiscreetly, trying to draw the attention of the Pinkerton presence in Tumbleweed.

Clearly, she'd succeeded. Only now, the middle-aged man seemed to grunt in annoyance. She hadn't breathed a word as to the knowledge he sought. Even with being lashed, cut, beaten, and burned, she hadn't uttered a single word. Not until now, anyway.

With a final CRACK of the belt, she whimpered. Her knees were trembling as though she were going to break down. As Henry walks slowly around her, as if to taunt her for not talking, he hears it.

"Again," It's but a whisper, he's sure he's imagined it until he outwardly slaps her face. She slowly turns to look at him again, but it's not fear in the gaze of the young woman before him.

It's lust.

He seems to understand in a hurry and begins to slide his belt through his slacks belt loops once more as if silently telling her they were done for now. He's beginning to walk away when she meekly calls out to him.

"Wait," With but a glance over his shoulder, mid-step, the detective can't stop from sneering at the woman who struggles in her binds. "Benedict Pass." She says quickly, leaning towards him as far as the ropes will allow her to go.

"Please," She's begging now. "Please keep going," Her teeth dig what looks to be painfully deep into her lip. Blood slowly pooling around her pearly whites proves the amount of force she used was excessive.

His steps back were slow, measured, and he takes a chair, sitting in it with his arms folded over the back, facing her.

"You only spoke when I stopped, why should I?" He's leering now, his smug smirk still playing across his lips. She's unable to be discreet about her body's reactions to him as he does so, either. Her thighs were tense as she clenches her legs together, more keening whimpers rising from her chest.

"It- I think it was Howell." She blurts, fresh tears running paths down her bloodied cheeks. "A large African American," She adds after a few seconds. "He was camped alone down by the pass." She sounds desperate.

And he's still coming to terms with the fact that she's pleading with him to be beaten. Not the other way around.

The woman herself was somewhat plump, but she held a strong figure, as though she worked all her life, and not in a saloon. Her clothing, most of which had been long removed, was simple, if not a bit tacky. Her brown hair was cut rather short, but just long enough to be pulled back if needed, and while her eyes looked rather dark, there were traces of yellows, greens, and even greys upon closer inspection.

Henry had seen for himself earlier, the dark purple handprints around her neck hadn't phased her any more than the lashing or prodding with a hot wrought iron rod designed to poke the firewood to stir up coals.

At this point, she had brands all over her body, from her back to stomach to her arms and legs. He'd held the iron white with heat directly to her: and still not a sound had been made until he walked away.

She was interesting, giving him the information he desired when he did nothing. One of his colleagues had walked in then, he's asking if Henry had gotten any progress from the woman. She turns away from the newcomer: apparently bashful in her shaming position.

"Go check out Benedict Pass." With that order, the other turns to leave, and the room door was promptly closed following his departure.

He circles, resembling a bird of prey spotting a rabbit in the desert. He swoops in, in much the same fashion. Henry has her neck in his grasp again. Only this time he's pressing on her arteries. The lack of blood flow to her brain would hopefully help worm out if she's lying or not.

"If I find that you're lying to me..." He's threatening her, yet comes to a loss of words. Usually, this was where he inserted a punishment: Waterboarding, lashing, starvation, shoot them. Yet nothing he'd done to her was something she objected to...

"I'm not," She presses, insisting that she'd really saw Lance Howell. The muscle of the Moore gang, and one of their bigger threats in hunting the group of outlaws. "But... when he returns-" His grip on her tightens, he watches in horrified fascination as her eyes roll back.

"When he returns," she's repeating herself, her face going slack as she nears passing out. Henry can feel her heartbeat, many times faster than normal, under his fingertips before he lets her go.

Clearly, the head rush from her brain getting blood was pleasing, she writhed in her binds, even slumping and giving up holding her weight on her toes for a few seconds.

She looks him directly in the eyes, a soft smile one would usually imagine on a mother who was watching on as her children went off to school. She had an expression of pure bliss upon her face as she whispered,

"When he confirms I'm right, please do everything all over again."

Yet, to her own displeasure, she's cut down. Or more accurately, it's displeasure, to begin with. He's taken her chin lifting her upward to a kneeling position.

"Stay," Henry's command is hissed from clenched teeth, he's taking his belt off, again. The button of his trousers follows swiftly, and she's looking up at him, her lips parted slightly as her nostrils flare. She looks drunk: and because of him. His own simper expression was all she needed to take matters into her own hands. The woman was practically delirious and he wasn't even out yet.

Her tongue was dragging around her swollen lips, while beaten and bruised, she didn't even flinch at the pressure placed against them. Her chin juts forward, and she's slapped as soon as the movement ceases.

"What did I say?" his gaze was almost savage when she met his orbs with her own. He's expecting fear: It's what he'd known since getting this job. But what he gets is desire. The confusion plaguing the man is overpowered by his lust to utterly break the girl.

He realizes then, while knowing her body is fully matured, that despite this, her rounded features make her appear rather young. Younger than one should be in this situation.

"To stay," Her tone is all too pleased for someone who's just disobeyed him. Although Henry supposes, that's exactly what she wanted to begin with. After all the torment he'd already dished out: She's still looking to be abused.

"And," He's grinning now, eyes narrowed dangerously as his scolding gaze lands upon the girl. "What did you do?"

She's gone sheepish all of a sudden, her fare face showing a brilliant amount of color behind all the damage done. "I didn't stay..." Ida is filled with a longing look, although appears to hesitate upon chances of disrespecting his orders again.

"So," The word is practically hissed out by Henry. His own arousal had been taunt in his slacks since he realized she'd been enjoying this. He just had more self control than most people. "what are you going to do to make it up to me?" He's stroking her chin now, she's so close he can feel her breath against his clothing.

Slowly, her lips part, eyes narrowing in a drunken haze as her gaze lowers to her own level. Her tongue darts out again, wetting her battered lips farther.

"Whatever you want me to do, Sir."

**Author's Note:**

> Another thing inspired by my RP friends. *thank you much my dude for creating Henry, and letting me post this self-indulgent monstrosity.*


End file.
